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I’m back again

February 11th, 2010

  I'm back

I’m back again

My previous blog post dates back to June of 2009. How time flies! It’s like sand running through my fingers. I cannot or don’t know how to retain it… It must be said in my defence I was plunged into the hustle and bustle of life, following my decision to move from the North(1) to the South of France(2), which was quite an adventure! I’ll probably revert to the subject later on. The journey gives one the chance to travel through some of nice sites in France, if not necessarily the most prestigious or the most quoted in travel guides.

I am compelled to recognize that over the last eight months, the devastating headlines of the Press could have been a copy-and-paste of the 2008 ones.  Plane crashes, earthquakes and cyclones resulting in thousands of desperate homeless people, terrorist bombings and hostage takings have become an everyday occurrence.  Moreover in 2009, the world had to face the most severe financial crisis ever sustained since the dramatic 1929 stock-market crash, with subsequent tough social conflicts, permanent closure of factories, fast-rising jobless rate. Well-established banks went bankrupt (not preventing, however, top managers and traders to make scandalous bonuses while the average citizen sweats blood to maintain his level of life).

Just the same as ever… a matter of routine for a world that is becoming totally crazy.

Our incapacity to influence the run of events, or our inertia or our fatalism, seems to have discouraged many, although not I (and I am sure others are with me.) I refuse to add my name to the long list of doomsayers. This is why from now on I’ll do my best “to mildly relate serious things” (3) (if not without emotion) and to share with you some privileged moments, as if we were good old friends sitting by the fireside(4) with a “nice cup of tea ” (5) at hand.

(1)Where the whims of fate had settled me for some years, more precisely in Calais, just facing England.

(2)In Romans-sur-Isère, an enchanting little town whose charms and secrets I will be delighted to reveal and share with you.

 (3)Alexandre Jardin, a brilliant French writer and film-maker born in 1965.

(4)While I am writing these lines, it is heavily snowing outside. “It’s been years since we had such bad weather” they say in town. To think I decided to migrate to the South to find sun in February, as a good friend of mine is still trying to convince me!

(5)I could have chosen a nice glass of white burgundy, but I don’t want to turn the anti-alcoholic leagues against me. One may be brave but not necessarily foolhardy!

 

‘A long way gone’ by Ishmael Beah

June 2nd, 2009

 A long way gone by Ishmael Beah

 

According to his biography Ishmael Beah was born in Sierra Leone in 1980.

 

 

Until the age of twelve, Ishmael enjoyed the happy life of a young teenager in Mogbwemo. With his elder brother ‘Junior’, his friends ‘Talloi’ and ‘Mohamed’, all fans of both hip hop and dance, they would spend hours listening to hip hop songs that they discovered watching TV clips. They even created a group to present to a show for upcoming young talents that took place in Mattru, a neighbouring city. Like all teenagers, they hoped to become famous stars and remain deaf and aloof to the rumours of a war that nevertheless was casting on the roads hordes of refugees who would cross the town, nights and days. War is “virtual”, some sort of show on television that is none of their concern. Of course they would hear of countries at war, such as Liberia, but how could they imagine that they would soon be thrown into the sheer madness of a bloody civil war that started in 1991 and would last until 2002, killing thousands and displacing more than two million people? Such dramatic events could only happen to others. Isn’t that what we all believe and say?

 

Ishmael’s story is that of all children soldiers, forced into brutal rebel armed groups (I was about to say “gangs”, because that’s what they are in fact): the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) and the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC), fighting the governmental forces.

When the RUF under the commandment of Foday Sankoh bursts in Mogbwemo, a wave of panic sweeps through the population. The RUF applying terror tactics, destroys every village in its path and is merciless towards the populations, commits atrocities (rape, mutilations, pillage, etc…) and exterminates those poor civilians who attempt to escape. Ishmael, knows nothing of what happened to his family and has to flee with his friends from the rebels. Then starts the horror.

 

Ishmael is recruited by force as a soldier into the RUF. He is expertly trained in the use of arms and becomes a killing machine. Trying to forget his tragic plight, he becomes addicted to marijuana, sniffs “brown brown” (“a mixture of cocaine and gunpowder”), swallows “white pills” that give him an unbounded energy.  Finally rescued by an NGO, he is rehabilitated and is granted a refugee status. He leaves his country for the United States where he now lives. As a UNICEF representative, he delivers conferences all around the world to make the public aware of the children soldiers’ tragedy, brilliantly denounced in the movie “Blood Diamond”  (directed and produced by Edward Zwick, with Leonardo Di Caprio and Djimon Hounsou), and in a novel* by Ahmadou Kourouma**, entitled “Allah n’est pas obligé” (“Allah is not obliged”).

 

“A long way gone” is prefaced “To all the children of Sierra Leone whose childhood has been stolen” and reminds us that those children soldiers who caused so many casualties, are also victims of raving mad so-to-say “officers”.

 

An International Day against the Use of Child Soldiers has been created that denounces the enlisting of child soldiers as a crime against humanity, “for which those responsible must be prosecuted and punished.”

 

Nothing however, is decreed against the well-established drug traffickers and gunrunners who sell to the highest bidder a whole range of the very latest devices of death (missiles, rocket launchers, assault rifles, rifles with telescopic sight, repeating rifles,…). They don’t have any qualms about their shameful business as long as it yields huge profits. That’s the only thing that counts for them! They don’t care about more or less one million dead people. Shouldn’t they be numbered among the very first criminals of war?

 

*written in French but not yet translated into English, as far as I know.  

 

**talented Ivorian novelist who won in 2000 a highly coveted literary prize (“Prix Renaudot”) with this novel.

 

 

 

 

Trailer Blood Diamond

 

 

Susan Boyle is reducing sniggering denigrators to silence!

May 29th, 2009

 Suzan Boyle

I’m amongst the last of the wider public to have heard of Susan Boyle, since I never watch those TV reality shows promoting ephemeral formatted talents that are entirely contrived by unscrupulous producers doing business at the expenses of others. I happened to discover her while I was searching for a specific video on You Tube. I must have missed it if she made the headlines of a magazine. I don’t remember the circumstances, but I do remember my sincere emotion when she started to sing “I Dreamed a Dream” in front of an audience making fun of her and a skeptical jury that fairly apologized at the end of her performance for having been incredulous.

Susan Boyle, a very ordinary Scottish middle-age woman who comes from a modest background, is a staggering singer, whatever cynical and despicable denigrators may say about her old-fashioned look, her age, her frizzy hair. She must have suffered many mockeries in her life from those who privilege appearances and have no consideration about what lies beneath. All her life, she wanted to become a professional singer and never gave up her ambition. What a lesson for all the moaners on earth! Moreover she has a great sense of humour. She is kind and spontaneous and has millions of fans (if we believe the statistics). I hope that she will win the final competition on May 30th. That would be a nice answer to the arrogance of the showbiz circus*.

*I just read that Susan Boyle might refuse to participate to the finals, due to the pressure of the media. She was very likely to win. What a pity for those who, like me, love only happy ends, if she withdraws from the competition!

Gran Torino

May 12th, 2009

GRAN Torino

 

I am totally unreceptive to anything that concerns automobiles. I barely know the names of some of the famous brands and moreover, I am unable to tell the difference between a Mercedes and a BMW, a Toyota and a Kia. I am a perfect Philistine in this field. A car for me is no more than a bodywork, and a set of four wheels. Of course it runs thanks to some intricate mechanism under a hood that sometimes needs to be serviced at an outrageously expensive price, to the good fortune of my mechanic whose expertise, obviously, can never be contested! I was therefore inclined to believe that Gran Torino was some rocky desert or some majestic river spreading out its meanders in a luxuriant prairie. I never imagined nor suspected that it might be a car. In fact the Gran Torino is not just a standard car, but a de luxe model belonging to Walt Kowalski brilliantly incarnated by Clint Eastwood (one of his greatest parts).

Walt Kowalski, an old Korean War veteran keeps a vigilant eye on his Gran Torino. It’s his pride and joy. At this stage of his life, it’s perhaps his only reason for living. His wife has just died, and his sons have become perfect strangers to him. Aren’t they willing to put him in an old people’s home and put the family home up for sale? The old man is not fooled by their sudden thoughtfulness, their fake compassion, and their pitiful little schemes to get rid of him.

Walt Kowalski, after the death of his wife, cuts himself off from the world more and more. His dog is his only friend. He spends his days sitting on his terrace, with his gun always at hand, sipping beer, and cursing his neighbours and in particular his closest neighbours from the Hmong ethnic minority*. We cannot hold back a smile when Walt and the Hmong grandmother (Chee Tao), respectively sitting on their terrace for a breath of fresh air, cast side-long glances at each other and never stop mumbling curses at each other. 

The Reverend Janovich (Christopher Carley is an endearing performer) had been asked by Walt’s wife, as a last wish, to lead her husband to confess his sins. Although knowing Walt’s flaunted hostility to religion, the Reverend dares to confront the old disgruntled man who, as expected, sends him away. What would he confess to a perfect stranger, moreover a young priest knowing nothing of life? However, Reverend Janovich is far from being disheartened by a rebuff and sets his heart on his mission throughout the film. He guesses that the man he is confronting is not just an irascible and execrable old man. He doesn’t go by appearances only but feels true compassion for Walt Kowalski, and refuses to let him down. We guess that Walt Kowalski ends up feeling respect for the reverend who is brave enough to stand up to him and whose words don’t leave him totally unmoved.

Walt’s hatred of strangers is deeply rooted in the Korean war, but we understand (only at the near end of the film) that it masks a deep-hidden feeling of guilt after the dramatic killing of a young man waving a white flag in sign of surrender that Walt had noticed too late, and for which he has never been able to forgive himself. 

Walt Kowalski is xenophobic, antisocial, and asserts it defiantly. He cultivates his prejudices with an obvious delectation. However, he snatches his neighbour’s young son (Tao), a quiet teenager, from the clutches of a gang that forced Tao to steal the very coveted Gran Torino. The risky project fails and Tao, under the pressure of his family, has to work for the community under Walt’s implacable supervision, in atonement for his degrading behaviour. The veteran, against his will, becomes deeply attached to Tao and his sister Sue who succeeds little by little in taming him. He is induced to share the Hmong hospitality and traditions. He finds a substitute family among them. We understand that he is utterly wretched but more than willing to be loved and respected, despite ostentatiously denying it.

The film is the story of Walt Kowalski’s redemption. It rehabilitates many values all too often forgotten nowadays (self-respect, tolerance, refusal of submission to the law of the strongest, the importance of traditions and family, …) . The tragic end leaves us with the feeling of an “accomplished destiny”. There is no sadness in it, only hope. Changing the world is not purely utopian. President Obama doesn’t say anything else when he asserts that “Yes, we can”, does he?

We are permanently swayed between laughter and intense emotion. The dialogues are crude but delightful and stick perfectly to the characters. Bee Vang (Tao) and Ahney Her (Sue) brighten up the story with their spontaneity and attachment to their family principles.

Once more, Clint Eastwood leads us into deep reflection with this moving Gran Torino that will undeniably rank among his best films.

 

*Hmongs had to flee from Asia (mainly Laos) to the USA under the right of asylum.

Trailer Gran Torino

 

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